Look to the Sky
by jasminefiregreen
Summary: She owed someone a favor; a very important person named Mycroft. Her task was simple; watch over Sherlock Holmes and don't die. Turns out doing both is a little harder than expected. OCxSherlock
1. The Study in Pink- Part 1

"Mycroft, what the bloody hell am I doing here?" I asked after my blindfold was removed. I was in his private office and he was sitting in front of me. He gave me a smug smile.

"Why, Miss Skylar, that language is highly inappropriate." He scolded me.

"So is kidnapping." I returned his jab and he lost his stiff posture and gave me a slight smile. It was strained and his phone was closer to him than normal. His eyes had a hint of worry and the only person he was ever worried about was Sherlock. I sighed and crossed my legs.

"What has Sherlock done this time?" Mycroft looked at me with a hint of approval at my deduction.

"He has a new...pet. His name is John Watson, he's an ex-army doctor." I rolled my eyes at Mycroft's term for Sherlock's friends.

"I take it you have already tried bribing him for information on dear little Sherly."

"Of course I have, this isn't my first time dealing with his strays. As excepted he didn't except the bribe." He looked at me with a gleam in his eyes and I felt a shiver go down my spine. He was planning something and it wasn't good. I changed my posture and leaned forward slightly. My expression turned serious.

"And what does all this have to do with me?" Mycroft smirked at me and folded his hands in front of him.

"You owe me a favor." _Bugger. _I sighed in resignation and looked him in the eyes.

"What do I have to do?"

I rang the doorbell to 221 Baker's Street and was exceedingly happy when Mrs. Hudson answered the door. I hadn't thought of an exit strategy if Sherlock had answered the door. "Hello, my name is Skylar; I'm here about renting a room?" I gave a polite smile and held back a giggle as Mrs. Hudson tried making herself more presentable. She had flour on her forearms indicating she had been baking, most likely bread. She opened the door wider and led me inside.

"I'm so sorry 'bout the mess, Sherlock never picks up after himself, and I hadn't expected you 'till later." She apologized embarrassed about the clutter that was in the room. I simply smiled at her and took in all the information; all the experiments, sheet music, and empty tea cups. I started to catalog all the information in my mind in a filling cabinet drawer labeled 'Sherlock and Watson'.

"It's fine, Mrs. Hudson. Do think I could perhaps see the room?" I wanted to get started on labeling and organizing all this new information before my main objective arrived. She smiled at me and could tell that this women was going to become a soft spot in my heart.

"Of course, dear." She led me downstairs into flat 221 C. It was a bit moldy and musty, but a little paint and it would be good as new. Mrs. Hudson looked at me wearily watching for my reaction. I looked at her and smiled brightly.

"It's absolutely perfect, I'll take it." She looked at me like the weight of the world was lifted off of her with one sentence. Apparently she didn't think anyone else would want to live with Sherlock. I handed over the rent money and security deposit that Mycroft had given me. If I was helping him there was no way it was coming out of my own pocket.

I gave her a small smile and shook her hand, "I have to go take care of a few things, but I'll be back in around 2 hours." I left the flat, got into a cab, and called Mycroft.

"It's all going according to plan."


	2. The Study in Pink- Part 2

After getting all my stuff, which fit into a grand total of five boxes, I went back to the flat. After I dropped of my boxes in my room and then went back up the stairs to Sherlock's flat. I opened his door and was shocked to find a drug bust going on. No one noticed me open the door, so I very quietly closed it. I ran down to my room and instead of telling Mycroft what was going on; I started go through my things. Apparently no one knew there was another room downstairs because no one even bothered to come down. So, after I hidden all my illegal substances I went back upstairs. I went back into the room as quite as possible and observed the people in the room.

Sergeant Sally Donovan was obviously having sex with the guy named Anderson due to the fact they were wearing the same deodorant and the redness of Donovan's knees. Anderson was clearly here because he was jealous of Sherlock's skills and Donovan was trying to get revenge for him rejecting her. Anderson was obviously stupid so it wasn't that hard to figure that out and Sherlock was absolutely gorgeous and married to his job. I was about to start on deducing Lestrade's love life when the door opened to show a dark-haired detective and a short blonde.

"What are you going?!" Sherlock seemed very annoyed that people were going through his things, I have no idea why.

"Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid." Lestrade shot back.

"You can't just break into my flat!"

"Well, you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat."

"Well, what do you call this then?" Sherlock gestured to the people rummaging through his things.

"It's a drugs bust." Sherlock visibly stiffened and scowled.

"I'm not your sniffer dog!" He yelled at Lestrade.

"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." I snorted quietly at his comment. Anderson looked insulted which made it so much funnier. Sherlock seemed to just notice that Anderson was in the room.

"What? Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

Anderson smiled smugly at Sherlock, "Oh, I volunteered."

"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drug squad, but they're very keen." Sherlock glanced over at me, finally noticing me. He really had tunnel vision when he was focused. Which was the reason Mycroft was smarter than him.

"Not all of them are volunteers." Sherlock commented and Lestrade looked confused. Then Sherlock focused on what was going on. "So, you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?"

"It stops being pretend if they find anything." Lestrade said seriously and I was suddenly very glad that no one had noticed that there was another room.

"I am clean!" Sherlock protested.

"Is your flat? All of it?"

"I don't even smoke." Sherlock avoided the question, but I knew he had drugs in the flat. Well, I didn't know, but Mycroft did and he told me. Most of them weren't for his personal use; only for his experiments. Still, if they were found Sherlock would be in trouble. I started to try and find some of his hiding spots. I found 10, but only 3 of them could be found by the police. I blended in with my surroundings, a skill I happen to be very good at, and I went the hiding spots. I took the drugs from the places they were hidden and sneakingly put them in my pocket. I went back to leaning on the wall and I noticed Sherlock leaving the flat.

I immediately went out and followed him out of the flat. I waited until he was out the front door before I went down the stairs. I listened at the door and heard Sherlock talking to some. When he admitted to being a serial killer, I accidentally sneezed. It was silent on the other side of the door and I swore internally. The door was ripped open and I stumbled forward into someone.

"I'm terribly sorry" I looked up and saw it was Sherlock I had fell into. I immediately put on my dumb and clueless act, "I needed a smoke and I promise I won't tell anyone what I heard. Please, just let me go." I pleaded and tried to look pathetic. Sherlock looked at me surprised, but quickly appeared unfazed. The cabbie looked at me with disdain. The cabbie drew his gun and aimed at me.

"I'm sorry, I was planning on giving you a choice, but I wasn't excepting another person to find us." He glared at me and then turned back to Sherlock. "I'm going to show you how I did it. How I spoke to those people and how I got them to take the poison."

"And what if I don't want to go with you?" Sherlock asked.

"I shoot her." The cabbie told him and aimed his gun at solely me.

"Go ahead." Sherlock told him without even blinking. _Damn, I knew this job was going to get me killed. I so going to haunt Mycroft if I die. _

"I don't think you really mean that. Are you sure you want her death hanging over your head? Do you really want to become the monster everyone thinks you are?" Sherlock looked at the cabbie with determination in his eyes. That look made me shiver in fear. The cabbie put his finger on the trigger. Dozens of scenarios played in my mind, but I couldn't find a way out of this. The only thing that could prevent my death was if Sherlock agreed to go or if the cabbie missed which was pretty much impossible at this distance. Then Sherlock sighed and I felt myself relax.

"Fine, I'll go with you, but the girl stays." I let go of my breathe and then I remembered my job; watch over Sherlock, but there was no way I was going die for him.

"She stays, you might try something if I don't have a hostage." And I'm still screwed. Even if Sherlock does what the cabbie wants him to, I'm still a witness. A liability that can't be allowed to live.

** Sorry for the slow updates, I'll try to update faster. I hope you liked the story and if Skylar is too Mary-Sue please feel free to yell at me. Thanks for reading~**


	3. The Study in Pink- Part 3

**Hello, sorry for the slow updates I've been moving and school keeps me procrastinating. Thank you anyone who favorited or followed the story and thank you Itsjustallie for reviewing! **

**Disclaimer- I don't own anything Sherlock. I only own my glorious leaf water (tea) **

The cabbie shoved us into the backseat of the cab and started to drive. Sherlock glared at me in disapproval and I could practically hear him calling me an idiot. Then the cabbie started talking like an idiot. Did he not know who Sherlock was?

"Oh, I recognized ya. Soon as I saw you chasing my cab. Sherlock Holmes! I was warned about you. I've been on your website too. Brilliant stuff. Loved it." Alright, so he did know who Sherlock is, he was just very stupid.

"Who warned you about me?" Sherlock questioned and the cabbie kept giving him more information.

"Someone out there who's noticed." The old man said cryptically and I sighed. The cabbie shot me a glare.

"Who? Who would notice me?" I rolled my eyes and relaxed in the backseat. Obviously there would be no killing while in the cab and he was telling Sherlock enough to hopefully get us out of here alive. If Sherlock died, his brother would bring back from the dead and lecture me. Our, well my only hope was the Sherlock could get us out of this with our hearts still beating.

"You're are too modest, Mr. Holmes." I snorted and the cabbie looked back at me with an annoyed look. "Do you have something to say?" He asked me with a glare and I smirked at him.

"Obviously you don't notice Sherlock very well." The cabbie raised an eyebrow at me and Sherlock glanced at me. "Sherlock modest? You have to be kidding me."

"She is right." Sherlock agreed with me.

"Got yourself a fan."

"Tell me more." Sherlock pushed and the cabbie smiled.

"Not in this lifetime." The ride was silent after that and looked at me and I could feel his calculating eyes start to deduce me.

I glanced around the cab and decided I needed something that would keep both me and Sherlock alive. I started to use the tips Mycroft taught me. There was a picture of his kids on the dash. No wife in the picture, but he cares for the kids. There was no ring on his finger which meant his wife and him were either having troubles or were divorced. No sign of children on his person and his clothes were worn. He worked as a cabbie which meant late hours, so he doesn't have the kids. He's separated from his wife and she took the kids.

Then there was the look in his eyes when he found me behind the door. It was panic and anger. He was smart enough to take me with them, but he talks too much about what he is doing. He said someone noticed, but took great care to give no hints of his identity. That meant he was either afraid of the man or cared for the man. If he was afraid there must be more behind it. The man clothes and state of hygiene gave the general idea that he stopped caring, but he still cared for his children because the picture was still there. I furrowed my brow trying to think of what this man could be scared of.

**Sherlock's P.O.V**

Who in the world was this idiot woman? She acted dumb about listening to our conversation and know she was making her kidnapper angry; probably on purpose. I studied the ginger haired women. She was about 4 inches shorter than me and looked to be about 120 pounds. She wore clothes that would flatter her figure and her nails were cleaned and manicured; showing her pride in appearance. However the state of her unruly mess of curls and the lack of makeup contradicted that. She was in the loft and managed to stay unnoticed even though she was surrounded by police officers, she didn't even seemed fazed by it. She probably was familiar to sticking to the shadows. She was even smart enough to find some of my easier hiding spots for my drugs and even managed to remove the evidence from some of the more easily found spots. Now she was glancing around the cab and I could practically see the gears in her mind working. I didn't know what to think of her. She was intelligent enough to find my hiding spots, but let herself get taken easily by the cabbie. I saw her brow furrow and her brown eyes held a spark of intelligence. I slightly grinned, if she turned out to not be another stupid ape, she may be of use.

**Sky's P.O.V**

The stopped the cab and went to open the door on Sherlock's side. Sherlock immediately asked where we were even though he probably already knew. "You know every street in London. You know exactly where we are." The cabbie called him out on his lie. Guess the cabbie was smarter than I originally thought.

"Roland-Kerr Further Education College. Why here?" Sherlock questioned.

"It's open. Cleaners are in. One thing about being a cabbie, you always know a quiet spot for a murder. I'm surprised more of us don't branch out." I had to agree with the cabbie, it was a wonderful job to have if you were a serial killer. You blended in and all your victims just walk into your car.

"And you just walk your victims in? How?" The cabbie pulled out the same gun he used to make me come with. "Oh...dull." Sherlock said in a disappointed voice.

"Don't worry. It gets better." The cabbie assured him and Sherlock seemed to cheer up a bit. Something that made me slightly uncomfortable. He led Sherlock and me up the stairs of the building and into some sort of office.

"You can't make people take their own lives at gunpoint." Sherlock argued when we got to the room.

"I don't. It's much better than that. Don't need this with you. Cos you'll follow me. Well, what do you think? It's up to you. You're the one who's going to die here." I started to move silently and slowly away from Sherlock and closer to the man. If I could get close enough to him I can take him down.

"No, I'm not." Sherlock said confidently. I rolled my eyes at the confident git. He had a gun pointed at him and he was still being cocky. I stepped on the wrong floorboard and it creaked. I froze and the cabbie quickly turned his gun on me. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"That's what they all say," He told Sherlock, but didn't turn away from me. He gestured to a seat at the wooden desk that was the main part of the room. I took that as a hint to sit my ass down. Which I did reluctantly. Sherlock glanced quickly at me with eyes that gleamed in excitement and I nearly groaned. I really had to get Mycroft to see his brother more. Sherlock's boredom looked to be slowly driving him off the edge. The cabbie turned back to Sherlock. "Shall we talk?"

"Bit risky, wasn't it? Took me away under the eye of about half a dozen policemen. They're not that stupid." I raised an eyebrow at him, the police couldn't even find one of Sherlock's hiding coves. "And Mrs. Hudson will remember you."

"You call that a risk? Nah...this is a risk. Oh, I like this bit. Cos you don't get it yet, do ya? But you're about to. I just have to do this…" The cabbie pulled two bottles out of his pocket and sat them down on the table. I immediately leaned forward to look at them. There was two pink pills in each bottle and I was pretty sure that there was poison in them. "Weren't expecting that, were ya? Oh, you're going to love this." The cabbie practically gushed, but there was something in his eyes that dulled them. Sherlock sat down next to me and the cabbie sat in front of him.

"Love what?" Sherlock asked.

The cabbie ignored Sherlock, "Sherlock Holmes! Look at you! Here in the flesh. That website of yours, your fan told me about it." He complimented. I stayed silent trying to figure out how I was getting us out of this situation. I could get myself out, but Mycroft would kill me himself if I left his brother. Even though he didn't like to show it, Mycroft cared for his brother and that meant I was screwed. And judging by the twinkle in Sherlock's eyes; there was a slim chance that I would be able to get him away safely without him doing something stupid.

"My fan?"

"You are brilliant. You are a proper genius. The Science of Deduction. Now, that… is proper thinking. Between you and me sitting here, why can't people just think?" The cabbie gave me a pointed look and I rolled my eyes. "Don't it make you mad? Why can't people just think?"

"Oh, I see… so you're a proper genius too." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"Don't look it, do I? Funny little man driving a cab. But you'll know better in a minute. Chances are it'll be the last thing you ever know." It seemed the cabbie was very sure that the pills would make Sherlock think he's a genius. However, I couldn't see it. It wasn't the fact that he was a shabby looking cabbie; it was his eyes. They didn't hold the normal spark of intelligence you see in geniuses. They seemed dull like a doll. A doll…. wait didn't he say that someone told him about Sherlock. Like a puppeteer pulling the strings in the background, but there wasn't much proof to support my theory. I put the thought in the back of my mind filling it under 'Things to Look Into'.

"Ok, two bottles. Explain."

"There's a good bottle and a bad bottle. You take the pill from the good bottle, you live. You take the pill from the bad bottle… you die." The cabbie explained.

"Both bottles are of course identical."

"In every way." I started to zone out thinking about my situation. If Sherlock took the right pills then the cabbie dies and I escape. If he takes the wrong pills then he dies and I end up dead in an alleyway. There was something that just didn't add up. A random choice between two bottles, but the cabbie hadn't taken the wrong bottle once. It was unbelievable that he hadn't once taken the wrong pills, but some poisons can be taken in small doses in order to build a tolerance to. It would make more sense if the cabbie had built a tolerance and therefore doesn't die even if he ingested the poison.

"Oh, I am playing. This is my turn. There's shaving foam behind your left ear. Nobody's pointed it out to you. Traces of where it's happened before, so you obviously you live on your own, there's no one to tell you. But, there's a photograph of children. Their mother's been cut out. If she'd died, she'd still be there. The photograph is old, but the frame's new. You think of you children, but you don't get to see them; estranged father. She took the kids, but you still love them and it still hurts. Ah, but there's more; your clothes. Recently laundered, but everything you're wearing is at least… three years old? Keeping up appearances, but not planning ahead. And here you are on a kamikaze murder spree. What's that about? Ah… three years ago. Is that when they told you?" Sherlock deduced.

"Sherlock." I tried getting his attention, but he ignored me. "Sherlock!" The cabbie glared at me.

"Shut up." Sherlock rudely told me. I growled in frustration, of course he isn't going to listen to me. He is going to be a prat and get us both killed.

"Told me what?" The cabbie asked.

"That you're a dead man walking." I frowned at that. It could be his motive, but it didn't seem to fit very well. He seemed to only care about his children and impressing Sherlock. He wouldn't care if he was dying.

"So are you." The cabbie retorted.

"You don't have long, though. Am I right?"

"Aneurism. Right in 'ere." He pointed to his temple. "Any breath could be my last."

"And because you're dying, you've just murdered four people." Sherlock said in disbelief.

"I've outlived four people. That's the most fun you can have with an aneurism."

"Fun? You think killing people is fun?!" I said outraged. Sherlock shot me an annoyed look. I glared back at him and then I saw a mischievous look in his eyes. I saw his arm move quickly towards me and then everything went blurry.


End file.
